


Wishful Thinking

by CanYouBelieveItsNotButter



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Anal Fingering, Canon Universe, Gratuitous Smut, M/M, Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Wet Dream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-16
Updated: 2014-06-16
Packaged: 2018-02-04 21:58:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1794604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CanYouBelieveItsNotButter/pseuds/CanYouBelieveItsNotButter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean froze solid. He heard a particularly loud rustle from behind him… and another… and another.<br/>He wanted to pretend he was asleep, but his eyes wouldn’t close, they were wide and staring frightfully intensely at the wall like a deer caught in headlights. A shadow rose from behind him, and a familiar voice spoke inquisitively.<br/>“…Jean?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wishful Thinking

**Author's Note:**

> Hurrah, this fic is finally finished after months of procrastination and putting off.  
> Enjoy this partially self indulgent JeanMarco smut, started and half written at about one o'clock in the morning!

A heavy breath hit the crook of his neck and a sudden warmth radiated onto his back, arms hoisting up his shirt and coiling around his abdomen, hair falling onto his flushed cheek. Long, raspy puffs were drawn out, the chapped lips from which they came lightly ghosting along his neck. The body pressed more firmly into his spine, closer and tighter. Jean hummed.

 

“Marco?” He whispered, craning his neck in an attempt to look behind him. “What are you doing?”

 

The other boy said nothing in return, instead groaned quietly into Jean’s shoulder, burying his face between his head and the pillow with his nose hooked over the edge of his shoulder. Jean was about to repeat his question, however the large, clammy hands that were latched onto his waist began to caress the soft skin, silencing him. Marco’s delicate fingers pressed into his skin, dragging along back to their palm before repeating the motion, and gradually they begun working their way down, eventually pinching the flesh of Jean’s hips gently.

 

Jean stared blankly into the darkness of the wall in front of him; sure, this was comforting, but… “Hey, Marco, I didn’t ask for a fucking massage-” His voice was low as he groaned, but was cut short as Marco slipped under the waistband of his trousers and feverishly groped at his ass. He couldn’t help but let a surprised yelp slip past his lips; although a muffled cough or two was soon to follow, a feeble attempt to mask the embarrassing noise. He could hear a light chuckle come from behind him, grumbling incoherently in annoyance.

 

The hands assaulting his rear were not removed, but continued to squeeze and massage the tough muscle; Jean tensed, and it was blatantly obvious that he was trying to resist the urge to roll his hips back into the others grasp, stubborn to show any sign of submission. Two fingers ran up the cleft of his ass, spreading the cheeks ever so slightly. God, did Jean’s perky little ass feel good cupped in his palms, soft skin over the tight muscle; Marco sighed at the almost painful tightness of his boxers.

 

Quick with his hands this time, Jean managed to cover his mouth to trap another loud whimper as the other boy’s fingers began to experiment, probing further. Blunt nails and the tips of calloused fingers flicked over his entrance, trailing down the sensitive flesh just in front of his ass and provoking another shaky sigh from the blonde. Hesitantly, Jean withdrew his hands from his mouth, whispering. “Hey, Marco, are you… Ah-!”

 

An audibly vocal moan jumped out of his throat; Marco had given his balls a soft tug and caress, knowingly one of Jean’s most sensitive spots. The brunet’s voice hitched slightly as well at the sweet sound the other boy had made. After a reflexive jerk of his hips, arousal rutting up against his back, Jean hardly needed to finish his original question.

 

“M-Marco,” His voice was obviously quieter now. “Are you… _that_ horny?” Another short buck of Marco’s hips was all Jean needed as an answer. His hand pulled out of the other’s trousers, which were now tenting at the front, grabbing the waistband and yanking them down, erection springing free. Jean reached down immediately to cup himself, trying unsuccessfully to cover himself even though he knew that no one could see. The other boy’s member was soon out as well, Jean could feel the bare skin pressing against him.

 

Marco’s head switched sides so that he was able to turn and nibble on the lobe of Jean’s ear before licking around the outer shell; Jean shuddered at the odd feeling. Those warm, sweaty palms were back on his waist now, this time moving upwards as another finger traced a line up the curve of his spine. Marco growled.

 

“I want to fuck your thighs, Jean…” Jean could positively feel a heat pooling in his abdomen and his erection twitch as the others words danced up his jawline and into his ear. More foul language spilled from the brunet’s mouth. “I want to feel the crack of that tight ass of yours clenching around me, hot and hard.” A low whine was earned from the blonde in response, and a complimentary grind of the hips, Marco’s tip pushing between Jean’s ass cheeks. “God, Jean, I want you to grind that ass down on me until I go crazy with pleasure and come _hard_.” Jean was now writhing under the sheets, frantically bucking his hips in any direction in hope of some friction, his member impossibly hard. The wait was agonising.

 

“Marco… Gah- you fucking tease.” Jean whined. His nipples perked up at the rough tug from Marco’s fingers and his stomach twisted, a warm, intoxicating feeling sizzling in the pit of his gut; the sensation was unbearable, he needed to find some sort of release. Marco purred at the delicious sound of his ragged breath.

 

“I’ll fuck you good and hard with my fingers if you just do me this… ah- favour.” Oh yes, how could Jean refuse such an offer? His back began to arch into the body behind him. “I want you to clamp you thighs and ass down tight around me, can you do that for me, Jean Kirschtein?” The way his name tumbled off his tongue like that drove Jean over the edge.

 

“Yes, god yes, Marco.” He whispered in a hoarse voice. Jean could feel a loud breath against his ear as Marco’s dick slid between his thighs, him tensing them as instructed; the sudden warmth, the wonderful tightness and friction, it caused Marco to let out a shaky moan, cursing under his breath as he slid even further in. His tip rolled into Jean’s balls, pre-come smearing over them.

 

“F-fuck… Ooh- oh-“ Marco’s careless and quivering little moans shot right down to Jean’s groin, him letting out his own sigh of pleasure. Eyes lidded, Marco began to slowly and shakily slide back. “J-Jean… Oh god, mm…” With a quick, sharp snap of his hips, Marco drove his dick back between the tight heat of Jean’s legs, rubbing hard against the delicate skin and making the blonde shudder. Nails dug bluntly into Jean’s ribcage as Marco begun slamming erratically into the boy; the feeling was more than amazing. The soft, slight sound of skin slapping on skin could barely be heard under the rustle of the duvet, but it all sounded embarrassingly loud in the dorm’s silence.

 

Brow furrowed and eyes squeezed tightly shut, Jean tried as hard as he could to ignore the lewd noises of Marco squelching in between his legs and his own dick bouncing against his stomach. He didn’t like to admit it, but Jean was all for dirty talking and the vulgar sounds of sex; or at least when he was willing and able to noisily toss himself off, that is. At this point in time, in the quiet dorm full of at least 30 other boys, the last thing Jean wanted was another awkwardly loud moan or grunt to wake someone up.

 

“J-Jean, I’m… close…” Marco breathed against his neck. A string of half-finished curses dribbled out of his mouth, him biting down furiously on his lip. “I can’t… oh fuck, Jean… I- Ah-!” With a final buck of his hips, Jean felt the warm liquid spill on his thighs, Marco twitching and shaking behind him as his orgasm rushed through him in waves.

 

They lay in silence for one long minute as Marco came down from his high, but eventually Jean couldn’t wait any longer and hummed eagerly, hole twitching and aching in anticipation. “M-Marco, me too.”

 

Two fingers were shoved in front of his face; Jean’s lips latched onto them, giving an enthusiastic suck while his tongue worked in and out between them, coating them in his saliva. This taste was familiar; the taste of sweat, the taste of sex, the taste of _Marco_. A string of spit hung and dripped onto Jean’s chin as they were removed.

 

“You ready?” Marco crooned right into Jean’s ear. The blonde gave a brisk nod, ass rolling back and feeling the wet fingers prod against him.

 

His stomach twisted and turned in the most pleasant way possible as the tip of Marco’s finger eased its way inside; breathy moans got caught in the back of his throat, the finger slipping further and further until it was knuckle deep inside him and gently twisting around, but Jean wanted more. Once Marco was sure Jean was willing and ready, he roughly forced another digit inside. After Jean inhaled sharply at the slight sting of the forced entrance, Marco’s fingers wasted no time in building up a quick pace, rapidly plunging in and out of the now shaking boy.

 

Jean had begun to hum and grunt with each movement; his eyes fell closed and he had to clamp his lips closed as well, an embarrassing amount of drool pooling in his cheek. It felt good, but not good enough, and the fingers barely brushed against his prostate, causing him to roll his hips back, urging Marco to curl them more.

 

Finally, to Jean’s relief, Marco took the hint, shoved them down knuckle deep and bent them in the most _perfect_ place possible before gradually dragging them back out. Jean moaned quietly but desperately. “That’s… fucking, ah-, perfect Marco... keep…”

 

Marco repeated the action, curling his fingers against the sensitive gland, and again and again… until Jean was a complete quivering mess beside him. His hips shook violently and rolled back repeatedly in time with Marco’s thrusts, his hands had balled into fists by his heaving chest, his torso and forehead was drenched in sweat, and he had given up with constricting his mouth, letting the spit run down his cheek and high pitched, muffled moans escape. Each prod against his prostate sent warm, desperate feeling waves to his abdomen, the knots in his stomach gradually coming undone.

 

“Marco, Marco, fuck, _Marco_ …!” Jean whimpered half into his drool soaked pillow. He needed it more, faster, faster, harder, _harder, harder!..._ “Harder, Marco! Fuck me harder…”

 

Surprisingly Marco was able to pick up the pace even further, groaning at Jean’s dirty words; what a sight, to see the boy come undone so easily and quickly by just his fingers. Jean’s hands fumbled with his dick, curling up on himself slightly as he managed to grasp the base, and then began to work up and down it with firm, jerky strokes. He was utterly out of sync with the other’s movements, but he didn’t care, he just needed some release. The seconds his thumb was at the top of his dick, he pressed firmly into the head and held it still so it dug pleasantly into the sensitive spot just below the head as he hand stroked down again.

 

A familiar feeling finally begun to build up in his groin. Jean started to whine helplessly, water clouding his already fading vision as he tried to turn back to look at Marco. “Fuck, fuck, I’m going to come, Marco… Ah- Marco! Marco, Marco, Marco…” He groaned the other’s name wantonly, repeating it, until…

 

“Mar…-co…” He gasped the boy’s broken name one last time and lurched, spine curling over as he reached his orgasm, feeling the warm liquid coating his boxers… which were somehow now back around his waist? Where had those hands that were once wrapped around his dick and fucking him through his orgasm gone? Where was that hot breath against his ear and jaw?

 

* * *

 

Jean’s sleep crusted eyes opened a little, squinting as a bright, uninvited light shone straight into them. It was morning, and he could tell by the slight, odd snore or rustle that it was too early for training; everyone was still asleep. He tried to move a little to get comfortable so he could doze off again for the possible hour or so he had left, but found there was a heavy weight lying on top of him, too heavy to be just a duvet; a small glance over was enough to see a fast asleep Marco, arm, leg and half of his body slung lazily over Jean.

 

“Oh…” Jean groaned to himself, now noticing the dampness pressing against his thigh and the wet feeling in his own underwear. He lay half on his side, half on his stomach, now limp dick pressed against the mattress and one of his hands to have worked its way between his legs. “Oh.” He sighed again, noticing the way Marco’s face was pressed into his neck, breath resonating up to his ear. Fragments of the dream began working their way back to him, and in a few minutes he was able to reconstruct the fuzzy memory in his mind.

 

Shifting over a little, he heard the soft thud of Marco’s body sliding off onto the mattress, and he tugged the covers over and onto his face, hiding. How loud had he been last night? Had he woken anyone up? Had _Marco_ woken up? The majority of him prayed that Marco had stayed sound asleep through whatever had happened last night, how on earth would he explain it to him otherwise? But there was also a small part of his brain that silently hoped that maybe Marco had woken up; the part of his brain that also silently hoped that one day Jean would man up and actually make a move on the boy.

 

That, of course, was just wishful thinking, to think that Jean would ever gain enough courage to do such a thing; he was pathetic, and he knew it. Laid in bed with cum stained boxers by the boy with whom he had the most absurd sexual fantasies, it all seemed rather typical for a teenage boy of his age, but it was none the less disgusting, to him and most likely Marco as well.

 

Jean froze solid. He heard a particularly loud rustle from behind him… and another… and another. He wanted to pretend he was asleep, but his eyes wouldn’t close, they were wide and staring frightfully intensely at the wall like a deer caught in headlights. A shadow rose from behind him, and a familiar voice spoke inquisitively.

 

“…Jean?”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, let me know if there are any mistakes!


End file.
